Goodbye, Homura-chan
by Certainly-Not-A-Writer
Summary: Why was Oriko right? What did Homura lose? And what is it with all of these goodbyes, and lies and dies? Attempts to answer why Homura Akemi became (more like) the girl we all know(?) and love(?). Rated T despite coarse language, violence, existentialist failure...
1. I

**_I _**

**_Puella in Somnio, Verum Exquiere_**

_"This garden is beautiful, isn't it Alice?" the Woman asked._

_Yes. This garden was beautiful. Rows of silver roses, a field of red Spider Lilies as far as the eye could see. Corinthian columns lined a cobblestone path, reminiscent of the old mythology stories she liked to read when she was little. It led to a glass table where a posh tea party was about to commence, where nobody waited but a particularly fine set of china. The sky was a painted stark blue, brushstroke clouds in Van Gogh's reality. A cool breeze brushed her nose, carrying the flowers' mildly sweet scent. _

_Alice could not remember the reason why she was here, but it was a very important reason. She didn't even have her friend by her side. She would have called her first, but the Woman had led her here upon such short notice. It seemed that having tea with her put the whole world at stake. _

_"Um… It is. It really is," Alice answered out of politeness. _

_The Woman wasn't even a woman in the physical sense. She looked roughly the girl's age, a pale-skinned beauty with long ebony hair. She wore a school uniform Alice must have seen somewhere before, but the most noticeable feature she had was her earring: a long black one shaped like a salamander. Despite this girl's appearance, something about her, the way she walked, the way she conducted herself, the way she spoke, evoked an image of a wise but world-weary woman. There was no choice _but _to call her a woman. _

_"I made this garden myself," she said, clearly pleased with Alice's answer despite its terseness. "Took me a hundred years." _

_A hundred years to make a garden? Surely a garden wouldn't take a hundred years to plant and grow. Alice's own garden took only one year, so why a hundred? Did she plant all of those lilies one by one herself? Ridiculous. _This must be a dream of sorts_, the girl concluded. A strangely lucid one at that. _

_"Take a seat," the woman beckoned her to a chair opposite her at the table. "Please." _

_A warm cup of Jasmine tea was already waiting for her, and its aroma invited her to take a sip. But its appearance had brought the girl a pang of suspicion. The Woman had not yet answered any of the questions she had in her head. What if this cup was poisoned? It suddenly became important that Alice knew whether it had poison or not. Before she would even take one sip, she had to know whether it was safe. "What is in this cup, if I may ask?" _

_"Oh, the cup? Well tea, of course." the Woman smiled. "I know that Jasmine is your favorite." _

_Despite her words, there was something that bugged the girl in the back of her head. _Something _was in this cup. Something someone had put in there to kill her. _

_"Don't try to fool me," Alice said brazenly. She had never been this brusque before to anybody, but her life was at risk. What choice did she have? "I know there is poison in this cup. You put it in there, didn't you?"_

_The Woman seemed genuinely confused. "I do not know what you are talking about," she asked in a childish lisp, a hint of irony laced between the syllables. "It is just regular Jasmine tea. I wouldn't know what _you _would put in there, though." _

_What _Alice_ would put in there? "I just got here," she protested. "There's no way I could have put anything in that cup."_

_"That doesn't mean that another you put it in there before you came," said the Woman. "Don't you think that is possible?" _

_Another her? That was crazy. There couldn't be any other Alice than Alice. As long as she was concerned, Alice was the only Alice in existence. The Woman wasn't making any sense. "What are you talking about?"_

_The Woman smiled. "See for yourself. Toss the tea out and see what is inside." _

_She spilled the tea into a rosebush, and Alice looked into the cup. There was a Spider Lily inside, glowing red in full bloom, and it was obvious that it was there while the cup was being filled. But Red Spider Lilies were poisonous—so wouldn't that mean that there _was _poison in this cup?_

_She gasped._ _"You are trying to kill me." _

_"Why would I try to kill you, Alice? Maybe you are trying to kill yourself." _

_The Girl remembered something else. "My name isn't Alice." _

_"Is it not now?" Again, the Woman had genuine confusion written all over her face. "You just told me your name was Alice. Maybe the You who called herself Alice was the one who put that flower in your cup." _

_"Don't be ridiculous; what is my name?" _

_"Would it even be important if you knew your name?" the Woman tilted her head to one side, adding to the effect of her confusion. "Is the world so contrived that you need to know all of the details, despite knowing that you will not be able to change a thing?" _

_The Girl stood from her chair. "What are you talking about? Stop it with the nonsense and tell me my name!" _

_"Honestly, if I could tell you your name, I would have done so already. But Fate isn't letting me." _

_"What does Fate have to do with all of this?" _

_"Why, Fate has to do with everything," the Woman said, also standing up, picking a Red Spider Lily from her teacup. "Us beings intertwined with time, we have no choice but to act with what Fate demands." _

_"Beings intertwined with…?" None of it was making sense, but somehow, at the same time it was. "And Fate told you not to tell me my name?"_

_"Yes, but in fairness Fate told me to tell you a lot of other things. And among them, I will tell you this: Someone will bring you this flower, and Fate will have you do a certain something. It will be inevitable. You can never run away from it. But remember that that person can never run away from it too. Fate will also have that person do a certain something. It has already been decided; inclinations will naturally lead you there. It's amazing, really. It's the illusion or free will... Or should I say _perversion _of free will? Ha-ha." _

_A certain something. You can never run away from it. The Perversion of Free Will. To the girl, all of them were groups of buzzwords with no meaning at all. Did they even have to _have_ a meaning? Was the world just throwing words around, hoping somebody would be able to impose their own logic onto it and see what it really meant? Was there any true meaning to anything at all?_

_"Who… Who are you?" the girl couldn't help but asking. _

_"Have you heard of the Wind-Up Bird?" _

_She shook her head. "No."_

_"Then that is I," the Woman said. "I am the Wind-Up Bird. I wind the world's spring. I am the loneliest bird in the world." _

_As the Woman said these words, the garden changed. The Corinthian columns aged rapidly, going through millennia of ruination in just split seconds. The blue sky metamorphosed into a hideous copper yellow, and the fields of Spider Lilies and bushes of Silver Roses faded into dust, revealing a vast desert. From the Woman's back, two great wings of Ebony spread out, just like Icarus of old as he flew towards the sun._

_"There are many stories about how I became the Wind-Up Bird. This one has a very big twist in the end. I believe you won't like it, though. In fact, I doubt that anybody will."_

**Xxx^.^xxX**

That morning, Kirika wanted to prepare Oriko's morning tea for once. Her best friend was always the one who prepared tea in the morning, following her duty to a degree of religiousness seen only in Buddhist monks. It was the least she could do for Oriko. In the light of everything the girl had done for her, Kirika would have given her the whole world. But a cup of tea was all she could afford, a symbolic 'thank you' saying that at least Kirika appreciated their friendship.

The Mikuni residence was always peaceful in mornings, the kitchen most of all. It was the type of quiet place that was not really quiet, but filled mostly with peaceful sounds. Birds chirping, teacups tinkling in contact with a saucer, even the bubbling noises inside the electric kettle seemed to have some sort of solemn meaning. Kirika liked these sorts of sounds. She would close her eyes, and in the darkness she would see colorful swirling patterns moving rhythmically to the beat, like how water made ripples according to the dictates of rain.

_This is peace,_ she would subconsciously whisper in her lips, before catching herself and think that it was so weird to do that. Oriko wouldn't mind though. She liked Kirika being like that. And Oriko's words were all that she needed.

A lilac sky of the early morning lit the windows, sending warm hard beams into most nooks and crannies with waffle-shaped shadows. Or at least, that was how Kirika saw them. She had the weirdest perception of most things. In these lights she saw two pink and furry slippers step in from the living room, belonging to a girl dressed in a virginal white night gown. She looked up, and saw Oriko smiling lightly. It seemed that whatever face Kirika made upon her arrival, her best friend found it slightly amusing.

"Good morning," she whispered, eyes still half-veiled in the land of sleep before inching her way to the glass kitchen table.

"Hey," was all Kirika said. Time to act cool.

She lowered herself onto a seat. "You're here early."

"Yeah, with your dad always leaving in the mornings, I might as well." The toast points were done, strawberry jam jar open, the tea warm and Earl Grey. Just like how Oriko liked them. Now to put them on the tray… "By the way, he approves of our marriage now, so…"

Oriko's smile turned into a soft chuckle when she heard the last part.

Kirika made a fist pump in her head. She knew that was a good joke!

"So, papa has already left, huh?" Oriko asked, now sounding like she was contemplating something.

"Yup, said something about doing stuff at work; I can't remember. He said you should call him later though."

"He always gets worried like that…" Half of the message had already registered in Oriko's mind when she saw Kirika doing something by the cupboard. Curious, she craned her head a little to see what was going on, before smiling at the cute thing her friend was doing. "Oh, you've made breakfast."

"Surprise, surprise," she said, lifting the tray up, and then showing it to Oriko with a little twirl, careful not to spill the contents. "You've always been making it yourself, so when you slept in today I decided, well…" She trailed off, afraid of saying something Oriko might think of as strange.

She must have been making a face again because Oriko made another one of her princess-like chuckles.

It made Kirika feel a little self-aware. _Why does she always chuckle like that?_ Was Kirika doing something weird? "Um, Oriko… Is there something on my face?"

But the girl merely waved her hand and beckoned her to sit. "No, no, just get the tray down and let us eat."

She nodded, and when the tray was down and all the toast points and cups of tea were divided among them, the engaged in a little small talk. Some anecdotes about the weather, how the Student Council Elections were going, how little Yuma was doing, pleasant words and subtle banalities that Kirika actually liked. Back then she would hear her classmates talk about who were the hottest boy bands, who went where, and how so and so hid the fact that she had a boyfriend. She would hate these conversations because they didn't mean anything at all. They were just noises that used up the Oxygen in the air and threatened to puncture the Ozone with their putrid Carbon Dioxide. It was just the _pretentious game _of friendship people liked to play with each other a lot when they were bored.

But now she knew why people did this kind of talk: It felt good, and on top of that it felt _normal_. Who knew that talking about how one liked sunny days would make them look more human than talking about the meaning of being human itself? Suddenly, a clink of a teacup being lifted reminded Kirika to quit being so profound.

The moment of truth had come. Oriko was going to sample some of the tea she had made. As her best friend observed the cup of Earl Grey with her seemingly calculative eyes, Kirika held her breath, anxiously waiting for the verdict. Her eyes felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets, staring at the teacup's edge inching its way to Oriko's lips. Once she tasted it, what would she think?

Whatever Oriko would say, Kirika wouldn't mind. Besides, her friend was forgiving on most subjects. That one time Kirika botched the Banana Loaf she made for her, all Oriko did was smile despite the burn marks on the bread. When she made Eggs Benedict, all Oriko said was that next time she should leave the shells out. When she prepared some _Nattou _for dinner one time, Oriko said that she hated _Nattou_ but appreciated Kirika's effort. Surely, she'll forgive Kirika this time too, right?

No, Kirika made sure that this tea would be perfect. There was a whole _science _devoted to making perfect tea, and she studied and developed her skills in this craft to near perfection. Last night, she googled tea preparation, perfect water temperature and everything; this has to be the most perfect cup of tea to _exist_!

Oriko took a sip, regarded the cup for a while, and then spread a little bit of jam on a toast point. "So, she's going to come along for our tea party today, right Kirika?"

Kirika felt the blood drain completely from her face.

"We should probably clean the house first," Oriko continued.

No reaction.

"We cannot let her walk around and say, _'Oh, there's dust over there. How discomforting.'_ Right? Who knows what her mother would say."

Oh God, no reaction.

"That lady is always so kind to us; always makes us lunch whenever we're there…" Oriko seemed to be lost in thought with her little memory, but something had stopped her abruptly, brought her back into the world. "But you know, Kirika, there's… something I'd like to tell you, really."

Was her tea so horrible that Oriko simply ignored its horridness to forgive her best friend?

Oriko bowed her head, a lock of her beige hair obscuring her face. "I don't want to impose, but I hope you have the time to listen..."

_This cup of tea is so horrible, but Kirika's my best friend. I'll just drink it and say nothing. She might not notice anyway. I'll just wash the defilement away with a cup of my own tea later. But still, I feel so… dirty. _

Kirika picked up something sharp from the table. _"THAT'S IT; I'M GONNA KILL MYSELF!" _

"You see, I had a dream last night…" Oriko crinkled her eyebrows at the disturbance. "Wait—What?"

"I am in despair!" Kirika stood up with best foot forward, with the flourish of an opera performer in the throes of a Shakespearean death. "Making horrible tea for Oriko has left me in despair!"

As Oriko watched the scene unfold before her, she noticed a little detail that made her raise a finger. "Um, Kirika…"

Kirika held whatever sharp thing she had with both hands, priming to thrust it downwards with a finality of the last episode in a cancelled TV series. If she was going to kill herself, then she had to stab herself in the heart for a quick and easy death!

"Kirika, can you hear me…?"

_I never wanted to be like this, _Kirika thought to herself in her final moments. _All I wanted was to be Oriko's girl… best friend! _

"Erm, Kirika, there is something you might like to know..."

_Well, maybe girlfriend, sure, but… Wouldn't that be wrong? Girls can't love girls, right? But... what was that line again, 'Love is equal for all,' or something like that? But would Mister Mikuni agree? I mean, even if he does, what would our wedding be like? Would it be some sort of civil wedding and her father's gonna administer the proceedings? That's so WEIRD. How about a Church Wedding? But maybe Oriko's not Christian. Wait, am I Christian? And besides, what would we look like? Are we going to both wear dresses or something…? _

Oriko gave up, making a pained sigh as she dropped her shoulders. "You're holding a toast point."

_I can wear a groom's outfit, sure, but I'd like it to be sort of like a dress… _"Huh?" Kirika snapped herself out just enough to feel the rough, crumby sensation in her hands, before it revealed itself to her in all its golden brown and buttered glory.

Oriko stood up, walking towards her friend. "Come, come now, Kirika…"

The girl facepalmed, her shoulders trembling as her hand got wet with tears. "Is this serious…?"

Her best friend said nothing and wrapped her arms around Kirika, sharing her warmth. "There, there. That's okay. You always do your best for me, don't you?"

"What do you mean do my best?" she whimpered. "I can't even kill myself properly…"

Oriko backed up and looked at her friend with even brows. "Well, what do you want me to tell you? _'Don't worry Kirika-chan; you can kill yourself better next time, ni-pah~!' _Have you been taking your pills lately?"

Kirika took a bite out of her toast point. "Well, I took my vitamins this morning. I have vitamin C for the immune system, there's vitamin A for eyesight, there's vitamin B for the immune system—Wait, I think I got that messed up, hold on…"

Her best friend laughed, this time a little more heartily than before. She was obviously in good spirits.

And Kirika was obviously missing a point. "Vitamin B, that's for… Wait, when you were talking about 'pills', did you mean…" Her eyes widened. "_Ohhh, _I get it. You said 'pills' as in— Oh crap I'm such an idiot oh god please kill me..." And she slapped her palm onto her face the second time.

Oriko rested her head on her friend's shoulder. "But you know, I really have to tell you something."

"…I shouldn't live on this earth I should live with my millionaire uncle on magical boat made out of money and go on exciting adventures with a blue time-travelling cat that eats bean buns wait wasn't I going somewhere with this…" Kirika snapped out of her delusion long enough to hear Oriko's voice. "What?"

"I had a dream," she said. "A horrible one. I don't want to talk about it anymore, really, but… I have to tell you."

Kirika didn't understand. One minute Oriko was okay and now… What was this? "Did you have some sort of nightmare?"

She firmed her embrace, nails digging lightly into Kirika's back. Her body trembled, almost wildly if not only did her friend hold her in place.

"I… I don't know," she said, "It felt too real. I can't run away. I have to face it. I know I shouldn't be, but I'm scared, Kirika... I really am."

Hearing her friend like this, she could barely summon any words at all. It must have been a really bad dream. But how was she going to help her if she didn't know what it was? "Oriko, calm down. What was it about?"

Oriko struggled to hold back her tears. "I am going to die."

**Xxx^.TxxX**

_Another failure. Wonderful. _

She opened her eyes upon the new day before her in bed. It was morning and the alarm on her nightstand had gone off for six o'clock. One more hour, she begged herself. The mind she inhabited was still half-stuck inside a labyrinth, a mess of images and disjointed memories sewn together to make a semblance of a coherent scene. What is clear in a dream becomes instantly muddled when one awakes; they lose their meaning and only become shifting, trembling demons.

Where is she? What day is it? Does it even matter? Nothing mattered, and she preferred ignorance and sleep, to fall back into the dark abyss and never get back up, to be reduced to mere existence, maybe even below existence if that is possible. There would be no difference. No difference at all.

What was the name of this existence anyway? She turned to the nightstand and saw medical paraphernalia alongside what seemed to be documents. School transfer forms marked to a person named Homura Akemi, the ink on the kanji and hiragana still fresh. So that was her name.

Right. It was all coming back now. Everything that had happened in the last timeline, it was all there. Oriko Mikuni and Kirika Kure had managed to kill Madoka again as the Kaname Residence burned. Another reset, another cycle. More suffering. Another missed chance. Another one's death.

Homura shook her head. How many restarts have gone by now? She would have tallied the numbers. It's just that the tallies always disappear with each restart, along with everything else. She had been at it for four days, rebuilding everything from scratch.

Mornings consisted of eating cold, half-eaten US Military MREs for breakfast, and drinking cheap but warm instant coffee. There was no radio to listen for news; she'd already thrown out the infernal contraption along with the TV. They never did her good anyway. Nobody called her at the telephone, no emails either. The mailbox at her front door overflowed, but Homura was never excited by the idea of tearing open bills, magazine subscription updates, letters from distant uncles, cousins, parents whose faces she couldn't even remember anymore. A reminder that her water would be cut off because of lagging payments would only bring too much grief.

Speaking of water, did she need to take a bath? Homura made a tentative sniff at her armpit. Nope. She would just take one after handling the preparations set for that morning. And about grief seeds, how many did she have? A precious few, tucked away in her study desk at the living room.

Homura read the note on her study desk under the lamp_. 'Madoka Kaname, do you treasure the life you currently live, and do you consider your family and your friends precious?'_ She had been memorizing this question since whenever, but never had the opportunity to ask it.

If she could say anything about her living room, it was too dark. Thick red curtains drawn over all the windows, the only sources of light a dim computer monitor and the lamp with its weary yellow fluorescent bulb. Pulling them open revealed one meter-long rectangles of white construction paper tacked on the beige walls, bearing drawings of attack patterns, magical moves, and erudite analyses of Oriko Mikuni and Kirika Kure's magical girl forms Homura had written during her preparation. Others showed drawings of the residences where both girls lived, coupled with satellite pictures Homura printed off the internet.

Lately, Oriko Mikuni and Kirika Kure had become targets of Homura's obsession. So desperate this girl was to defeat them, she had already drawn up multiple battle plans and strategies, the rolls of paper she drew the schematics on numbering in tens of hundreds, almost all of them failures. The difficulty was in trying to find out a way to kill Mikuni and Kure without Madoka dying in the process. The latest plan she had designed was quite simple: Homura would strike at the earliest opportunity, catching them off-guard before they even knew what hit them. On the computer, an internet news network reported that the United States Forces Japan garrison in Kanagawa was missing an alarming amount of weapons, all of which found home in Homura's trusty shield. From the moment she woke up at the hospital, Homura had worked tirelessly in getting the most weapons and grief seeds she could in the shortest amount of time possible.

Nothing could be wasted up to the point of attack. Homura didn't even fix her eyes, opting to stay with her glasses, deciding that magic was irreplaceable in account of the vicious battle that was sure to come.

For a moment, she caught her reflection in the mirror with those glasses. She looked strange. The image wasn't complete. But no. She'll never wear those braids just because of these glasses, no matter how perfectly they matched.

Last night's job was already done. She had designed three different weapon loadouts, and now she would pretend battling Mikuni and Kure in a mental exercise. _Loadout A_ was focused on Medium-ranged weapons. _Izhmash AN-94 _and _Howa Type-89 _Assault Rifles, _Milkor Multiple Grenade Launchers _and _SBD AT-4 _Rocket Launchers. She would keep her distance, with the heavy artillery, but close in with the assault weapons if needed...

No. This was not right. Kirika Kure could easily counter the Assault Rifles by slowing down the bullets. Attacking with the Milkors and the AT4s could be a valid option, but what if Oriko hit the projectiles with her metal orbs just like last time? They did some sort of combo in the last timeline—Kirika Kure slows down the missiles, Oriko Mikuni hits them with the orbs, and while Homura draws out another weapon to counter, Kirika Kure's already closed the distance and tore her face apart with those claws of hers.

Homura shook her head. No. This was not a good loadout. Not a good loadout at all.

_Loadout B _revolved around the idea to use Close Quarters Combat tactics, _FN P90_ and _CZUB Skorpion_ submachine guns and shotguns. Homura would freeze time, bridge the distance between her and Kirika Kure first, and then… No, scratch that. Oriko Mikuni would just force her to use up all her magic to freeze time again. She had to go after Oriko Mikuni _first_, taking her out with the submachine guns. Now if Kirika Kure were to rush back and try to defend her little princess, then Homura would introduce her to Mister _Saiga _12-gauge and his American associate Maxwell Atchison Assault Shotgun. What would Kure do when a hundred pellets of steel buckshot tear that smug grin off her face?

There was just one problem though: Would they really let Homura get _that_ close? Suppose upon sensing Homura's intent, Kirika Kure would slow down time, snatch Oriko Mikuni away, and while staying their distance she chucks those stupid claws of hers from a distance just like how she almost cut Madoka in half…

…Damn it.

Homura tore off the page from her notebook and tossed it aside in a violent shrug. This loadout was trash. Couldn't she think of something useful for once?

_Loadout C _was _Loadout B's _antithesis: PGM Hecate II Sniper Rifles, RT-20 Recoilless Rifles, M224 mortars that would keep Homura as far away from the two as possible. She could blow Mikuni's brains out with the Hecate, and then use the Recoilless Rifle for Kure. The RT-20 was known for shooting the armored sights out of Russian Main Battle Tanks in the Nineties. How much would it fare against the thick skin on Kure's face? If they decided to close the distance, then M224s would be more than enough to blow their guts back into the Stone Age.

…if they ever let Homura get that far away, that is.

The last time she remembered using a PGM Hecate, Kure wrestled it out of Homura's hands and slammed the rifle butt into her face. Using artillery like M224s was out of the question either. Today's plan involved fighting in a residential suburb, where families would probably spend quality time together at home. One stray mortar shell was all it would take to ruin somebody's perfect Sunday. Homura was not prepared to let anybody else get harmed.

She closed the notebook, took a deep breath, and after a few moments she decided it better not to chuck it towards the wall. But dammit, how stupid could she be, making up such useless loadouts?

Homura still had a self-declared policy of keeping any innocents out of her fight. Nobody would get hurt, nobody would die. In her opinion, too many innocents had perished already. Not everybody could be saved, but she will try to save everybody she could. It was what Madoka would've wanted.

Homura would only kill the truly evil.

Mikuni and Kure, they didn't deserve to be called people at all. Not after what they had done to others in god knows how many timelines. The students at Mitakihara Middle School, Mami Tomoe and Kyoko Sakura, _the Kanames_. Homura could still remember how she pulled a crying Madoka away as her house burned down in the night, the two making their assault as Madoka blamed Homura for bringing such misfortune upon her and her family.

_Why did you kill them?! _Madoka didn't understand. Oriko and Kirika Kure had to die; Homura came here to save her. _You were supposed to be my friend! I don't believe you! You're a liar! _But Madoka had to be protected; Madoka was everything to Homura. _You're a murderer! _Homura was _not _a murderer; she was there to protect—

_"Murderer!" _Madoka's tear-stained image appeared from the darkness. _"DEMON!" _

Homura was not a murderer. She was not a demon. She was here to save Madoka!

_"Yes you are! You said that you were my friend, but you're nothing but a liar, and a murderer, and a demon!"_

"SHUT UP!"

Homura banged her fist into the wall, making the schematics shake. Her hand unfolded, all of her fingers twitching uncontrollably, like petals of a flower confused whether to go into bloom or not. A dull, warm pain flowed from her knuckles. A Soul Gem was supposed to block out all pain, but why did she feel that punch? Was she pretending to feel it?

She wished this pain was real. Homura deserved all the punishment in the world for her failures. Another one, and another one, every one.

She stared at her hand for a few moments, and then closed it back into a fist, reminding herself of who brought her to burn Madoka's home in the first place. Oriko Mikuni and Kirika Kure, this was their fault. _All of it._

_Unforgiveable_, Homura's verdict was. _Truly unforgiveable._

Again, Homura took another deep breath. She had to be calm now. This was no time to be mad. "Never be mad," she whispered to herself. "Always get even."

_Never be mad. Always get even. _She would get even, alright. She would make up for all of it. For _everything_. Madoka had to be avenged. She was Homura's best friend. Homura had a debt to pay for all that the girl did for her. In Madoka's name, no innocents would get involved, Homura would save everybody she could, and only the truly evil will die.

Revitalized by a burst of motivation, Homura made up a simpler weapon loadout. The simpler a plan was, the more one could trust it. If Kirika Kure would try to attack from afar, the .50 Caliber Hecate would answer back. If she tried to get up close, then there was an M9 Beretta and a Mk. 1 Trench Knife waiting for her. For Mikuni, an M249 light machine gun should shut her up quick enough. If not, AT4s would probably work once Kure was out of the picture. Even if the black magical girl does that cute little stunt again where she turns herself into a Witch, 60mm Mortars and the recoilless rifle would fix that mother once she creates a labyrinth. A little bit of other close-quarters weapons, some rifles for long-range and medium ranges handled by her "Buddy" Type 89, and Homura had everything she needed.

She went over everything listed against what she had, her fine amethyst eyes studying her type-like handwriting behind her glasses. But looking at it for a few moments made Homura feel sad for herself. This would happen to her sometimes. When hit by a new inspiration, she would start doubting herself a few seconds later. Her emotions were a roller coaster that dipped often between hope and despair. _What was the point of all this?_ she would ask herself. _What if it all failed again? _The list before her seemed so empty. These words had no sense, no meaning, no purpose. A wall of text that only served to fill the blank spaces of her empty desire, her empty life.

But she had learned long ago to live with her self-doubt.

What was meaning? What is the purpose of having a purpose? And who creates these purposes? Existence precedes essence—that is for certain. A thing only has a meaning something else had assigned one to it, and no one thing only has one meaning. An absolute truth does not exist and will never exist, and so someone has to create the truth that will let them find their own meaning. That's right. If her life did not have a purpose, then it was Homura's job to give it a purpose. To give everything else in her life a purpose, she had to create her own truth.

_I must protect Madoka_. This is the only truth that mattered. Everything that will dispute this truth is a lie. And everything else is secondary.

* * *

**Authors Notes:**

Thanks for reading—Oh, no, wait; you're not done with the Author's Notes section; sorry…

[stays in a corner, ashamed. Looks over shoulder suspiciously, nibbles a Snickers' Bar before coming back]

[clears throat] I'll only say three things:

1\. This came about while I was making Homura's character sheet for the TWoHS rewrite. Strange things tend to happen if you dwell on one part of her life too much.

2\. It will be 3 chapters long, clocking at around 13k words. Chapter updates will arrive every 4 days, so the fic's complete by 8 days.

3\. I am currently suffering from chronic Failing Writer Disease, and every technical review and piece of constructive criticism will result in adding 1 Dollar/Euro/Peso to my Toke Stipend—er, Medical Treatment.

Now that's out of the way, let me tell you how you should not judge a woman's beauty by how she cooks her eggs… Oh wait, I'm not Kazuko. And you're not her class. You're the handsome/beautiful person who will continue reading this fanfic because I am flattering you quite thickly.

Now perish the thought, ignore the self-important, pretentious Latin chapter titles, and I hope you enjoy the rest of the chapters to come (let's just hope I tagged it with the correct rating now...).


	2. II

_**Author's Notes: **__Content Warning; Graphic Scenes ahead… Well, not that graphic, really. If you got yourself through reading the PMMM manga or Kazumi Magica, you should be fine. But in any case the writing's crossed the line somehow; please notify me via PM or via a review so I can bump the rating up to M. Help would be much appreciated. Thanks in advance. _

_Also, thanks for sticking so far. Here's the second chapter to _Goodbye, Homura-chan_. I hope you enjoy the ride._

* * *

_**II**_

_**Agonia in Horto Argento**_

The neighborhood was silent. Save for a jogger, nobody was in the streets. Good. No witnesses. Nobody else would get hurt. Hopefully.

In her silver garden of rosebushes, wearing a satin black dress, Oriko sat at a table, sipping her tea as if it were the most calming activity in the world.

Without hesitation, Homura emerged from out of nowhere, drawing a Desert Eagle Mark XIX Pistol, before ordering Mikuni to freeze where she sat.

But instead of panicking, or at the least act a little surprised like Homura expected, the girl coolly observed her like she was looking at a hummingbird somewhere, and resumed her tea drinking.

_Why isn't she transforming into her Magical Girl form?_ Homura asked herself, feeling that the little omission was a grand loss of something important. No matter. It would only make Oriko Mikuni that much easier to get rid of. She only had to find the girl's Soul Gem…

Somewhere from inside the house, Kirika Kure was probably cleaning. She came out in her usual schoolgirl outfit, a portable vacuum in her hands when she heard the noise, only to drop it at the sight of Oriko in the sights of some gun-toting psychopath.

"What the—?! ORIKO!" In automatic reflex, the girl reached for a pair of garden shears, and already had a good picture in her mind of jamming it down the bitch's throat, when suddenly Oriko raised a hand.

"Kirika, stop please," she said in calm, elegant lisp before turning her attention to Homura, and then to her tea. "I have done something to this girl, and she is now here to make me pay for it. What is your name?"

She should have predicted her name beforehand. Homura knew there was no other possibility. This was probably a delaying tactic of sorts. She expected Mikuni to transform and Kure to lash out with claws at any moment. "You should already know."

Oriko Mikuni's brows rose slightly, as if she found something interesting on the morning newspaper. "You came here to kill me, I assume."

Homura gripped her pistol tighter, her impatient mind on edge. What was with all this delay? What was Oriko trying to pull? Why wouldn't she just transform already? "Yes."

Kirika Kure gasped, and threateningly pulled the garden shears open. "If you do anything to Oriko, I swear I'll… I'll lop you head clean off your fucking shoulders!"

"Kirika!" Oriko scolded, sounding like a mother who caught her child stealing cookies from the jar. "Language."

She dropped the shears to one hand. "But Oriko!"

"This girl came here to kill me, Kirika. Watch what she does. If she manages to kill me, do whatever you want."Oriko then noted Homura with a slight nod. "Well then, what are you waiting for? If you're going to just stand there, I might as well make you some tea." She motioned back towards her teapot. "By the way, you look very cute in your glasses. Flattery aside, of course."

Despite having scanned her dress, Homura failed to find that single important thing. "Where is your Soul Gem, Oriko Mikuni?"

"Soul Gem?" The cup _tinkled_ as Oriko put it on a saucer. "I am afraid that I do not have one of those, Miss."

When those words formed into the last sentence, Homura veins ran ice cold. It seemed that putting 'do not have' and 'Soul Gem' in the same sentence was grammatically impossible. "What do you mean you don't have a Soul Gem?"

"I am afraid that I do not understand. I don't mean anything. If I did have some sort of meaning in that sentence, then it would be what it is: I do not have a Soul Gem. I don't even know what something like that is, to be honest." As she was about to pour hot water into the cup, Oriko paused for a moment, struck by some dilemma before deciding to ask Homura for help. "Well, will that be Jasmine or Earl Grey?"

A bullet shook the red rose bush directly behind her.

The girl made a slight frown at the lack of an answer. "Jasmine then, I suppose. You will find that it's quite stimulating."

"_Where is your Soul Gem_, Oriko Mikuni?" Homura asked, slight tremors forming on her pistol's grip.

"I'd be more than happy to fulfill your request, but I am afraid that I am constrained by the laws of logic." She stirred her teacup. "I cannot give you something that I simply do not have. By the way, sugar or no sugar?"

Was this some sort of trick? What the hell was she trying to pull? Oriko Mikuni _had _to have a Soul Gem, just like how Siberia _had_ to have snow or Sakura Trees _had _to have pink petals. For Homura, something like her _not _having a Soul Gem was universally impossible. "Answer me, Oriko Mikuni!"

Kirika Kure was on the verge of tears. "Stop it! Stop shooting at Oriko! She doesn't know what the hell you're talking about! I'll… I'll seriously kill you!"

"Kirika, for the last time—please. This is something between her and I. Besides, she will always miss." She turned to Homura. "You will have to forgive Kirika; she can be a little… emotional sometimes. Anyway, I take it you don't want sugar. Too bad. Jasmine's always a little more smoother with sugar. Although, it's probably just my personal taste…."

Homura's face was heating up. Her feet felt like they would explode just for staying still. The tension was rising, and the unpredictability of the whole situation slowly dawned on her. This was nothing like she had planned. But if Oriko could predict such a future like that, then she _must _have a Soul Gem somewhere! "What made you so sure?"

"About Jasmine being smoother with sugar?" But instead of having the good manners to feel threatened like the enemy she should be, Oriko continued to walk in her own little world, delicately pouring a small amount of cream into the cup. "Oh, you were talking about your bullets missing. Sorry about that. By the way, I'll do you a favor and put in some cream. It makes Jasmine easier to drink, especially for first-timers." She brought the cup up to properly stir it. "Besides, Fate said that you will miss every single shot. It has already been decided."

"You're so full of yourself!" Homura yelled.

The fine lady slowly stirred her tea. Homura observed, ever so slight as it was, that her hand was trembling. Was that just the time-stopper's imagination?

Probably so. Oriko seemed to actually _enjoy _stirring the Jasmine in her teacup, if not only it was shot it out of her hands in a spectacular explosion of glass and tea. The girl groaned a little, raising one cheek in a little pout. "If I only knew you were coming sooner, I would have brought out the less-expensive china."

"STOP SCREWING WITH ME!"

The iron sight aimed cleanly between Oriko's eyes, Homura pulled again and again on her Beretta's trigger, letting fly with jacketed 9mm Parabellum rounds. Something _had_ to hit. The bronze casings that fell on the limestone floor seemed to signify that. Yet when the clip had run out, she had only managed to smash the tea set on the table, and its owner only had a fine red line streaked across her left cheek.

"I take it that you don't like tea after all," she said, and then turned to Kirika, smiling. "I told you she would miss."

But Kirika was too busy being pained by her own uselessness. "Oriko, get out of there!"

What the hell was wrong? Homura was _sure_ she was aiming at Oriko! It wasn't as if she suddenly just went _blind_ the moment she fired; the bullets were supposed to hit! Were the laws of physics screwing with her too? The absurdity of it all, and a vague fear that Oriko Mikuni must have some sort of new power she did not understand, ran a deep chill down Homura's spine.

"You see, there is nothing wrong, really," Oriko Mikuni said, as if reading her thoughts. Then she walked slowly towards Homura, step by step in a straight, serene gait. "There is nothing wrong with your gun, there is nothing wrong with your bullets, and I must say that your aiming is actually quite impeccable. It's just that Fate decided that you cannot kill me..."

Despite having a new gun drawn at Oriko, Homura found that she could not pull the trigger. Before she knew it, Oriko had already closed the distance between them, pulling her body close with one hand and caressing Homura's pistol with the other. The girl's hand quickly felt all over Homura's body, from her shoulders, down to her waist, and then to her thighs, while the other guided the Mark XIX to Oriko's temple.

"…at least, without my help."

Oriko Mikuni's frame was so soft, and Homura could feel her breasts, her torso, the full breadth of her hips. It was a weird, disturbing feeling. One part of Homura would have pushed Oriko off for being so strange, and another would have Homura completely melt. Something, _something _was preventing Homura from moving her own body. She felt that she wasn't even inside it anymore. She was in the sky, or in a tree somewhere, and she was looking at this scene where this girl wrapped her in an embrace. In some way, Homura had developed the notion that Mikuni was _defiling _her.

Kure was stunned. "Oriko, what the…?"

"I see everything now," she told her friend, sounding truly enlightened. "Kirika, I wish you could see what I see. It's wonderful. Truly wonderful! But also really sad…"

"What…What are you doing to me?" Homura asked, her voice sounding like it wasn't hers at all. More like a tape recorder replaying her voice.

"So your name is Homura Akemi. I see. And you must do away with these questions. I am not doing anything. If you are wondering why you can't move, its Fate. I get it now. Since you are a being intertwined with time, it is only natural that Fate will have control over your body, just like what she said…" Oriko moved her lips close to Homura's left ear, enough to let the time-stopper feel her warm, moist breath. "Now listen carefully, Miss Akemi. I know two things that will happen. First, today Kirika and I will die. And in the rest of the iterations of your life you will kill us without hesitation, without mercy, without doubt. But remember the second thing. These will be the most important words of your life. You will never love, and never be loved. This is Fate's curse onto you. No matter where you go, you will always remember these words, and they will be with you until the day you finally die."

Suddenly, Homura felt something warm and wet flow down her ears.

"To be honest, I don't feel any hate towards you at all, Miss Akemi," she said in a shuddering high pitch. "In fact, I can almost love you, you know? I know all of your pain, and all of the pain you will come to know later on, how cold it all is... You should remember this warmth that I am giving you right now, for this is the only warmth you will find for the rest of your life. I really wish I could give you more than this, but I am afraid that we will never meet again. At least, this iteration of me never will…"

Oriko Mikuni then lifted her head to look at Homura, her face twisted and smudged with tears and the blood oozing from her cheek.

"Now if you will excuse me, Miss Akemi," she said, finger over Homura's own at the Desert Eagle's trigger. "Let me do you the favor of administering my first death."

Kirika Kure gaped. "Oriko, _NO_—!"

A quick pull, followed by a short bang, was all that took to blow a hole into Oriko Mikuni's head. But for a few moments, the charge of life exerting one last bit of power, the girl still breathed, and leaned her head on Homura's shoulder as blood began to flow out of her mouth. Whatever warmth she had left, it seemed, she wanted to share it all with Homura.

"I… I see… The Wind-Up Bird," she whispered. "It… It wants to fly… But its feet can't leave the ground. Poor… poor Wind-Up Bird…"

For a moment, Homura swore she felt something warm on her cheek.

Oriko slowly slumped down onto the ground, staining Homura's immaculate uniform with a bright trail of blood. Specks of blood were all over her glasses, and when she wiped the side of her face, her fingers came off crimson.

A kiss for the damned, a kiss of death.

The sight of her best friend's life snuffed out was all it took for Kirika to snap. "You…

By instinct, Homura had already drawn up her pistol in defense.

But instead of attacking, Kirika dropped the garden shears to the grass. Kirika ran up to her deceased friend, holding her lifeless body in her arms. She cried out at the misery of fate, and looked up at Homura, imploring her like one would towards God.

"You should have stopped her!" Kirika cried in despair. "She didn't know what she was saying; didn't you know how scared she was?! Why? What did we ever do to you?!"

The image before Homura was so strange. Here was Kirika Kure, crying over her friend's corpse instead of making some suicidal attack with her claws. Oriko Mikuni didn't even transform. From any point of view, all the statues of the _Pieta_ in the world wouldn't have rationalized that picture in Homura's mind. The sight of those two girls like that just seemed so improbable, an image that should only appear in an alcoholic haze.

Was Homura dreaming? No. This was reality, and it was happening right in front of her.

"Why?" Kirika Kure's shouts had turned into sobs. "Why…?"

Before Homura could even comprehend what was happening, a surge of anger flowed through Kure. Tears still in her eyes, she stood up, rushed towards Homura. She grabbed hold of her, shaking the time-stopper violently, her nails digging into her shoulders.

"WHY?!"

The shock was enough to make Homura panic, and without thinking she pulled her pistol's trigger.

Kure stopped. Her eyes widened, and with a single jolt, dropped at Homura's feet, a gaping hole in her stomach staining the immaculate limestone tiles. Her body twitched, choked breaths escaping her mouth, before it shook abruptly for one moment, and then slowly sunk into death.

Her position was almost perfect, actually, with Kirika going towards the left, and Oriko going to the right. Perfect symmetry, Pisces, _yin _and _yang._

But Homura did not have any time to think of astrological figures.

She had to observe the situation. These two girls did not have Soul Gems. They were just ordinary girls. And when you shoot ordinary girls, they bleed, and then they die.

_Isn't this what was supposed to happen? _She thought. _Didn't they have to pay for their sins? _

They look weird when they die, their faces twist, their eyes are still open, and they gape. Look at Mikuni. She was still crying over something...

_But I was only supposed to kill the truly evil. They were just ordinary girls. But did that make them innocent? _

…Kure failed to understand that bullets killed people.

_They should be innocent. Isn't saving the innocent what Madoka would've wanted?_

And their wounds. Small chunks of flesh and plasma still clung on Homura's uniform, on her hands, on her face. Something gray was spilling out of the side of Oriko's head.

_But did their innocence absolve them from their crimes? They killed Madoka in every timeline before this. Shouldn't this be just right? _

And Kirika. So intestines could actually spill like that. The bullet must have scrambled them all over the place, somehow.

_This was all in the name of our friendship, right? As long as it's for Madoka, killing them was right. They could have contracted with Kyubey, and they would have killed Madoka all the same. Maybe they would have killed Madoka even if they weren't magical girls at all! They were born to kill Madoka, like I was born to protect her. But… but wouldn't a person choose what purpose they had in their lives? Were they really born to kill Madoka? Yes they were! They had to be! I wouldn't kill them if they weren't! Right? Right? _

The blood all over the ground looked deep enough to resemble a puddle of sorts, and these bits and bobs of human parts were pieces in some sort of soup. Homura's boots felt wet, and when she looked down she saw that they were slowly sinking into the puddle.

_Why won't anybody say that I'm right?!_

Oriko looked at her and moved her mouth. _"Are you still there?"_

All the hairs on Homura's skin went up, and she was about to scream when the voice became a little clearer. It was not coming from Oriko's corpse, but somewhere inside the house. She made a glance towards that direction, and a little girl was standing at the patio.

Why the hell did _she _have to be here?

**XxxToTxxX**

Yuma Chitose was waiting for her friends to call her for the tea party. But when she heard some strange thumping noises from the backyard, she couldn't help but be curious.

"Oriko-neechan? Kirika-nee?" she called out. "Are you still there?"

She expected them to be arguing about roses again when she saw them on the ground, having slipped over some strawberry jam. Too bad; they even got this other girl dirty too. But Yuma wondered: Why was jam coming out of Oriko-neechan's head…?

But that was not strawberry jam.

The little girl could not believe her eyes. Slowly, she raised her head up. Seeing the pistol in Homura's hands, her mouth started shaking, unable to form any words from with her mind. "Wh-What… What did you…?"

Homura was outside her body again. Some actress that was paid off to look like Homura Akemi panicked as she saw this little girl break down in front of her. "It's not what you think."

"You… You killed them." If human eyes could pop out of their sockets, Yuma almost would have been proof of that. "You killed them!"

"It's not what you think!" The actress pleaded.

"You liar! You killed them!" Tears almost made her mumble her words. "You murderer!"

She was making a stunning performance; this Homura held her head with both hands and shook it with complete denial, her glasses falling to the ground to reveal small amethyst dots "I… I am not a murderer…"

"Yes you are! You are a liar, and a murderer, and a demon!"

Her knees weak, the actress slowly dropped to the ground. "I am not a demon…"

"LIAR!"

"…Shut up."

"MURDERER!"

"Shut up…"

"DEMON!"

"Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!"

**XxxXoXxxX**

As soon as she returned to her body, Homura woke up. She was lying on a tree somewhere. That was one of the craziest dreams she had ever had. It left a dry, sticky feeling in the back of her throat. She looked up at the giant oak she was under, admiring the dots of light that seeped through the leaves like stars. She closed her eyes, and the stars stayed in the darkness. She listened to the sounds, wind rustling the leaves, a car whizzing from afar, the birds singing, and the sound of a fly buzzing somewhere… somewhere.

But the copper smell of blood hung in the air, and when she opened her eyes, it did not take her much time to see the swarm of flies that had already cooped over small Yuma's body. And the two other murders she had already done.

If a movie was made about her life, it should have a scene like this: Close up to her eye dilating. The pupil becomes small... Cut to: a sequence of the three bodies shown in succession with flashes in-between. Then finally, cut to: Homura, close-up, her pupils are only dots, screaming as the camera zooms out to reveal the bloody mess before her.

**Xxx&amp;oXxxX**

"…Hello?"

"_Homura-chan. It's me." _

She couldn't believe it. Finally, she called! "Oh, Miss Kaname! H-Hi…"

"_How are you, Homura-chan?" _

"I'm… I'm fine. How about you?"

"_I'm fine too." _

"That's… That's wonderful."

"_I'm so glad to hear your voice, Homura-chan. I've missed you so much."_

"M-Me too. I always want to hear your voice, Miss Kaname. You… can't imagine how much I wanted to see you."

"_When are you coming home?" _

"…later. I'll come home later."

"_I'm always worried about you, Homura-chan. You always work so hard. Sometimes, I wonder if I will ever see you again." _

"Don't worry. I always work hard. You know, I… I did real good today. I did a lot of good things. I think this time I will come home... I want to ask you something, though."

"_Ask away." _

"Why am I doing this? Why am I doing all of this for our friendship? Do I really have to work this hard?"

"_Yes. Yes you do, Homura-chan."_

"But why? Isn't that… a little unfair? I mean, I've done a lot of things; su-surely I can't just do this just because you're my friend…"

"_I am not just your friend, Homura-chan." _

"Then… what are you to me? What made me do all of these things for you, Miss Kaname?"

"_You should already know that, Homura-chan. It's deep inside you, and it's the reason why you always do your best for me." _

"The reason why I did all of this for you was because…"

"_You always do your best for me, Homura-chan. I love you."_

"I... I love you too, Miss Kaname."

"_Goodbye, Homura-chan. I'll call you again."_

"…Bye—"

Suddenly, the cellphone rang.

How could this happen? How could Homura's cellphone ring in the middle of a call? Was it malfunctioning or something? Maybe Miss Kaname had to call again to say something important.

"_Oriko, darling. This is your father," _said a gruff but tender man from across the line. _"Why didn't you call me earlier? Strange, I told Kirika-san to remind you to call me this morning. Oh well, never mind. Sorry; I was a little worried, so I figured to check on you..."_

Homura dared not to breathe. Who was this?

"_Well… how was your tea party? Kirika-san told me that you invited Chitose-san's daughter as well. That's good to hear. I am glad you are so kind to that child. Her father was a very good man…"_

Even with all the words so far, Homura could only hear gibberish across the line. To her, it was all static.

"_...Oriko? Hello? Are you there?" _

What was this man saying?

"_Hello? Who is this?" _the man exclaimed, alarmed. _"Oriko, are you there? Hello!" _

Homura pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it, failing to comprehend that any other voice but Miss Kaname's could come out of this phone.

"_Is anybody there? Who is this? What did you do to my daughter?!" _

Now that somebody else's voice had gone out of it, Miss Kaname will never call this phone again. It was useless, and Homura had to throw it into the pit of other useless things.

"_Hello? What did you do to my daughter? WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY DAUGHTER?!" _

Once it landed next to Oriko, Homura shoveled some dirt over the phone to shut it up. The glasses followed soon after.


	3. III

_**III**_

_**Mors a Puella, Desperatio autem Fatalis**_

"Is the correct way of frying an egg sunny side-up or sunny side-down?" Miss Saotome said, starting that morning's session of homeroom. "Come on Nakazawa, I don't have all day!"

"I—I… geh… er, um… you can fry it either way, can't you?" The poor boy struggled to mutter, his hand raised.

"Precisely!" she snapped. "You can fry it either way. Therefore, it goes without saying that you should never judge a woman's beauty by how she fries her eggs…"

While her teacher went on with a long harangue about men who should never be picky with how their eggs were cooked, Sayaka was bored. She tapped her friend on the shoulder. "Hey Hitomi, have you heard of the girls buried under the rosebush in their backyard…?" she whispered to her seatmate with a sneer.

The poor girl folded into her desk, covering her ears. "Sayaka! Don't tell me horrible stories like that…"

"Yeah, Sayaka-chan, that's mean." Madoka heard the conversation at the edge of hearing, and decided to help Hitomi out. "You shouldn't talk about things like that."

But Sayaka ignored her friend. In the blunette's mind, this served Hitomi just right for ditching her at the bus stop yesterday. She knew that the mild-mannered girl didn't like gory stories, so it was _perfect_ for pushing her buttons. Besides, all that Hitomi did was visit Kyosuke again anyway… "It was all over the news last week. Three girls found dead in a wealthy suburb right here in Mitakihara! Gunned down mercilessly by an evil psychopath that's still at large! He summarily shot them all in their backyard one by one; _bang! bang! bang!_ And not just once, but so many times. The walls were _riddled _with bullet holes!"

At this point, Hitomi had been reduced to a sniveling wreck.

On the other hand, Madoka's interest was strangely piqued. She did remember that kind of thing being reported on the news. But shouldn't a story that violent still be in the headlines until now? "And… then what happened, Sayaka-chan?"

Sayaka was about to stop. She had already achieved her objective of vengeance against Hitomi. Besides, she didn't like talking about the story anyway. It was too gory even for her. And knowing that the girls were just their age… Seriously, did the world really have sickos who could do such things?

"Well…" She might as well continue lest she risk Madoka noticing that she didn't have enough stomach for these stories, maybe think she was weak. "For starters, whoever did it was a real pro. When the police came there, all the blood's been washed away and the bodies were gone. They didn't even think that a massacre happened. But they decided to investigate anyway, and then they found bullet holes in the walls. When they dug out the garden, there they were! Three of them! It was really ugly. My dad was on the investigation team and even _he _doesn't want to talk about what he saw there. And you know my dad, Madoka."

"But… wouldn't something like that still be on the evening news? I mean… it's horrible." Madoka said the last two words with feeling. Even if she didn't know them, those three girls were in her thoughts. They should be vindicated somehow, right? "Shouldn't they announce who the killer was, how they'll catch him in a manhunt of sorts…?"

"That's the _weird _part," Sayaka said, careful lest Miss Saotome would hear her. "You're right; it isn't on the evening news. It's not on any news. You know why? You see, one of the girls was the daughter of some hotshot representative in the Diet, and he thinks the whole thing was political. So they cut all the stories running about the whole thing until they get a clearer picture of what's going on. To avoid scandals for his political party, no doubt. You know what I think, Madoka?"

Whatever Sayaka-chan thought wouldn't have solved anything, but at this point Madoka clung onto every word her friend said. "What?

She looked frustrated for a while, and then smirked. "To be honest, I wanna think that it _is_ political."

"Why's that?"

"Because if it wasn't, then that would really mean that there's some _psycho_ running around Mitakihara shooting girls. The last time I heard, they haven't even _caught_ the guy yet. Would you really feel safe knowing that?"

"I…" Madoka glanced away a little, a scary image of her mother ordering her to run away amidst gunshots appearing in her mind for a second. "I guess not."

"A person's gotta be really screwed-up in the head to do that to those girls. Somebody like that shouldn't be allowed to live." Sayaka squinted her eyes, the darkness of her thoughts clouding them even further. "When they find they guy… I hope they shoot him."

Madoka couldn't believe what her best friend was saying. "Sayaka."

"What?" she snapped, not meaning to be a little loud. But she couldn't help but be irritated with her friend for being too soft. "It would serve him right!"

"…well, now that's out of the way," Miss Saotome announced after finishing her speech about how a man should not judge a woman by how she liked cats, "let's give a big warm welcome to our new classmate!"

Everyone in class turned their attention to the door, where this beautiful girl with long ebony hair walked in with an elegant stride. Homura Akemi was perfect, in all senses of the word. Whatever she did, be it introducing herself with her terse but smooth tone, the way she walked as if she was a supermodel of sorts, even the way she corrected her name after Miss Saotome mangled it on the whiteboard seemed like the most graceful thing in the world. Models didn't have to go on diets, or wear make-up, or put silly books on their heads to look stylish. They only just had to write their names on whiteboards in the correct _Kanji _like they invented the things, and they would be the most elegant beings in existence.

To Madoka, there was something about this girl that grasped her attention. She didn't know what exactly, but she couldn't take her eyes off her. In the back of her head, she even had the notion that she _saw _Homura Akemi somewhere before.

"She looks kind of familiar, don't you think Sayaka-chan?"

"If you saw her somewhere before, then it must've been in an idol magazine," Sayaka answered, the brooding haze she had earlier all but dissipated when this girl came into her sights. "I mean, look; that's girl's _gorgeous_."

Maybe Sayaka was right. But somehow not right either. Homura Akemi seemed like an idol model, but Madoka couldn't sense any of the characteristic haughtiness or self-conceit from her. In fact, despite the almost-stolid expression on her face, the girl looked kind of friendly.

Maybe if she got through that poker-faced exterior, Madoka might find another friend.

Homura Akemi probably didn't know anybody at all in this school. Madoka thought maybe she might use a little tour of the campus later. The pinkette smiled at the idea of guiding her through the school, telling Akemi funny stories about how Hitomi lost some books at the library, how Sayaka made a mess of things at the cafeteria, how the gang always hung out in the wind of the rooftop during lunch...

Besides, making friends was a lot better than talking about three poor girls being buried under a rosebush.

Later that day, Sayaka apologized to Hitomi for earlier, and had decided to treat the latter to lunch. That was fine. At least Madoka wouldn't have to worry about Sayaka scaring off Homura Akemi somehow. Madoka waited for the rest of the class to clear out so she could catch up with the transfer student, but a group of girls had already surrounded Akemi, asking her excited questions. It looked almost like an interrogation.

Madoka listened, pretending to go through her homework, hearing quips from the girls about Akemi's beautiful long hair, and how Tokyo was, and if she ever posed for a commercial before. But a few seconds in, she stopped them all abruptly and said that she was suffering a slight headache, and if she could kindly go to the nurse's office. When Homura denied offers to take her there and made a beeline to the door, Madoka followed. It felt kind of stalkerish, but there was no helping it. Besides, didn't Miss Saotome tell her that Madoka was the Nurse's Aide? And wouldn't this be her first day here? She wouldn't know where the clinic was. Where did she plan to go anyway?

She was just probably nervous with all the questions and wanted some space. Madoka smiled at her own conclusion. When she talks to Homura and tells her that everybody just wants to be friends, she would surely come around.

**Xxx-_-xxX**

Finally. Another second in that room and she would have probably suffocated.

Homura had to get away. Anywhere but that classroom. This had been the first time she had gotten out of her apartment since that day, so she still wasn't so used to crowds. Who knew that there were so many people in these classrooms? There must have been hundreds of them in a single room. Walking through the corridor, it felt like those hundreds were staring at her. _Look, it's Homura Akemi! _They seemed to say in their small conversations. _Wasn't she that girl who…? _

She kept her eyes straight ahead, but she couldn't help but make furtive glances over her shoulder. Whenever she did, it always seemed that somebody just turned their head away or averted their eyes at the very last second. Did they _know? _Was it _that _obvious? No, that's impossible. The way she's acting right now should be flawless; it shouldn't show any emotion at all. But what if they could see through it? What if they noticed how Homura always swallowed, or how she shifted her eyes, or how she kept her right hand in her pocket, feeling her cellphone for a call that might never come?

What if everybody in the school already knows and they're just talking about it when she's not looking?

_She buried them all under the rosebush in the backyard…_

How could she _not _bury them? Flies would have gotten all over their corpses!

_She shot them all in cold blood… _

Mikuni killed herself! Kure attacked Homura! It was… It was all in self-defense!

_Poor Yuma… How could she do that to a child? _

Yuma was… Yuma was… Yuma was in the wrong place in the wrong time!

"_What kind of justification is THAT?!" _one student asked her behind the glass wall. _"Just because she was there doesn't mean you should shoot her! She didn't even DO anything!" _

Somehow, all the students were staring at Homura. They all stood up from their chairs, interrupted their lives, to stand behind the walls and judge Homura with shouts and curses. Their hateful stares and words of pure wrath tore right through her body.

"But she left me no choice!" she defended herself with, turning around only to see more students at the walls, all screaming bloody murder. "She would have called the police!"

"_Then why would you even murder them in the first place?!" _They all shouted in unison, loud enough that the whole school seemed to shake. _"You're a bigger monster than _they_ were!" _

"You people don't understand! I had to protect Miss Kaname!"

"_She's not even calling you anymore!" _Sayaka Miki shouted._ "You're a liar! You're nothing but a liar!"_

"I am not a liar!"

"_Murderer!" _Kyoko Sakura chorused angrily, chomping on an apple. _"Taking away innocent lives like that. You should be ashamed of yourself!" _

"I am not a murderer!"

"_You are a liar and murderer," _Mami Tomoe started, sipping a cup of tea before setting a golden glare on Homura. _"Do you know what that makes you? A DEMON!" _

These people were not listening to her answers. She did all of that so she could save Madoka. Why wouldn't they understand that? But… why did she even do this for Miss Kaname in the first place? What if she found out about everything Homura had done for her? What then?

She had to run away. These people would tell her on Miss Kaname. They would tell her everything, and Miss Kaname would hate Homura. And if she does, then… then…

Oriko Mikuni pointed. _"That's the girl who killed us! Kill her! Kill the DEMON!" _

Chants of _'Kill the Demon!'_ sounded off in the hall, reverberating in the walls like an abattoir of retarded children. They echoed at such screeching pitches that would have driven Homura mad. They started banging on the glass, grabbing whatever books and other hard objects they could use, hideous spider-webs forming on the wall's surface.

Homura ran, headlong down the corridor, frantically dodging everybody else in her way.

**XxxT_-xxX**

When she had judged herself to be far away enough, Homura planted both hands on the wall, panting. She had cold shivers all over her body, and some of the hairs on her skin were still standing on edge. She was on the sky bridge between the North and South campus buildings, away from all the classrooms. They wouldn't be able to reach her here. They'll never find her here. If anybody did, then they might like to know what a .50 Action Express round looked like when it hits a human face.

When she caught her breath, Homura looked at herself in the glass. She looked horrible. There were lines under her eyes, probably from all the insomnia-capped nights she had. But something was wrong with this reflection. Instead of the headband on her hair, it was replaced by a red ribbon tied with a knot to the side. To her left ear hung a black long earring, shaped like a salamander.

Homura never wore any of these things.

This was not her face.

Before the full absurdity of it all had been absorbed, her reflection started moving on its own, bringing a finger to its lips. _"Shhh…" _

Within the glass, Homura was seeing another sky bridge, and inside the Other Homura stood up. To the right, there was someone kneeling on the floor, bound and gagged. It was the Old Homura, when she still wore glasses and those braids. She cried and struggled to beg for mercy as the Other Homura cracked out a Colt Anaconda. Homura was helpless as the Other her placed the end of the six-inch barrel squarely between the Old Homura's glasses, nonchalantly pulled the trigger, sending whatever made up her head scattered all over the floor.

Homura heart froze in total fear, but then the Other kneeled down in front of her again, and put a finger on her lips._ "Shhh. Wait. What you saw just now did not happen. Look, watch!" _

The Other clapped her hand, and instantly Homura saw her own face again. It was like someone had just replaced the roll of film mid-movie and a character was instantly gone. She couldn't comprehend how this happened, and she slid her hands around the glass in a vague effort to see if they would phase through somehow, to that other world beyond the wall, to see if it was real.

Then somebody tapped Homura on the shoulder.

"_Hey there, Akemi-san,"_ A girl said in a sweet, childlike voice.

Oh god. How long had she been there? A surge of self-awareness swept over Homura, and she stood straight up, hoping that the girl didn't see anything weird. "Oh… Madoka."

Madoka was surprised. "Hm? How did… How did you know my name?"

Homura inwardly cursed at herself. Of course they hadn't met yet. Damn it; she was such an idiot! "Um… Miss… Miss Saotome told me that you were... you were the Nurse's Aide for our class."

"That's right," she confirmed with a smile. "But I heard that you were having a headache, so… I'm kind of wondering why you didn't call me earlier. Like you said, I'm the Nurse's Aide, so… I could've brought you to the nurse's office myself."

Homura couldn't look at her eyes. For some reason, looking at Miss Kaname's face felt painful. "Ah… I… I didn't want to disturb you."

"What are you talking about? That's fine! You can always call on me if you're not feeling well. You don't have to be shy about it; we're classmates, after all."

Classmates… If only Miss Kaname knew she was more to Homura than that. "Um… okay."

"Do you want me to bring you to the nurse's office now, Miss Akemi?"

After a few tense moments of silence, Homura made a sigh of relief. Thank God nobody told Madoka. Homura had to calm down. What she was probably seeing earlier were delusions. Yes, delusions. Nobody was breaking the glass walls. Nobody was shooting glasses girls with six inch-long revolvers. Nobody was calling her a demon. It was all in her head.

It had to be.

"I can get there myself," Homura told her. "Miss Saotome, she told me where it was."

"But this school is pretty big, you know," Madoka said. "You can get lost in here. I remember back then when I first came to this school, I got my classrooms mixed up. I was so late for homeroom! Now I've made sure to memorize the whole school in my head so I don't get lost anymore. So, what do you say Miss Akemi? I've got a portable map in my head, so not only can I get you to the school clinic, I can be your personal tour guide!"

_In my head,_ Homura chanted to herself like some sort of spell. _It was all in my head._ She had to focus. Right now, Madoka was in front of her, and Homura had to start preventing her from being a Magical Girl right away. There might never be a chance like this again in this timeline.

She dusted herself and straightened her face, trying to form it back to the closest she could of her 'cool' expression, struggling to contain the façade's cracks. "Alright. Let's go, then."

"Yay! Alright Miss Akemi, you won't regret this. I'll make sure we won't get lost… hopefully. Kidding!" Madoka clasped her hands together. "By the way, is it okay if went ahead and called you Homura?"

The last word tugged somewhere at her chest. Why did she have to ask _that _question? This was so much like that… that day. Maybe this whole scene was some sort of joke, a parody of the first day she ever met Madoka. No! It was just all in her head! There was nothing wrong with this. Madoka had asked her that question hundreds of times; Homura only had to say 'yes' and it was over.

But why was she having so much of a hard time doing so?

"Um… Do as… you wish." This time, it was that pathetic knockoff of her voice on the cheap tape recorder again. "I'll go ahead."

Homura walked forward and led the way across the bridge, careful not to look behind as if she would turn into a pillar of salt if she did.

"Homura, huh…" she said from behind. "That means 'Flame', right? It's like you flare passionately or something! It's so cool; it's just like you!"

Somebody was definitely screwing with her.

"I'm… I'm nothing like that," Homura couldn't stop herself from saying. "I'm nothing like that at all..."

"What are you talking about, Homura? The way you introduced yourself earlier at class, how you study so much, and what you did earlier at P.E., that was really… wow. Sayaka-chan and I couldn't help but cheer for you earlier!"

_God, why are you screwing with me like this?! _

"It was all hard work," she answered. "And practice… lots of practice."

"Gee, no wonder you were blessed with such an awesome name. You made it your mission to become just as cool!"

_Enough! _She couldn't take it anymore! Homura had to ask Madoka that question, the one she had been rehearsing over and over again for the past 5 timelines.

_Madoka Kaname, do you treasure the life you currently live, and do you consider your family and your friends precious? _

_Madoka Kaname, do you treasure the life you currently live, and do you consider your family and your friends precious? _

_Madoka Kaname, do you treasure the life you currently live, and do you consider your family and your friends precious? _

Homura had to ask her this question because if she spent another minute listening to Madoka, then she might just kill… _Damn it! Damn it! DAMN IT!_

Struggling to keep it all locked in her chest, Homura took a deep breath before executing the plan, a series of careful instructions drilled into memory. _Turn around. Leg sweep 15 degrees to the left._ _Left foot forward—_

"You know, Homura, this may be a little sudden but…"

Suddenly, Madoka took hold of her hands, looking up at Homura with a bright and wide smile. "Is it okay if we become friends?"

Homura almost gasped. She said _what? _"What are you…?"

Out of the reflex of embarrassment, she looked down, only to see that her hands were staining Madoka's with blood.

"I'd like to be friends!" the pinkette chimed.

Without a second thought, Homura pulled her hand away from her with all the force of a person avoiding the plague.

"Don't… Don't get close to me." She didn't know what face she was making, but it sure scared Madoka. "Don't get close at all."

At first, pure confusion riddled itself on the girl's face, and then followed by a deeper sadness as the message of it all sank in. "Oh… I see."

Homura didn't even want to imagine what Madoka was feeling and wanted to get out of there as fast as possible. "I'll… I'll bring myself to the school clinic myself. Th… Thank you anyway, Miss Kaname."

And then she turned away, beginning to walk in long strides.

"Su-Sure, Homu…" She stopped herself.

Homura walked far that day. She didn't care where. As long as it would get her as far away from Madoka as possible. She didn't mean it that way. She didn't mean it that way at all.

"_Goodbye, Miss Akemi." _

Homura wanted to look back. She really did. Take back everything she said and just break down right then and there.

But these hands… they were too dirty.

* * *

"_This is one of the many stories about how I became the Wind-Up Bird," the Woman said. "Would you like to hear more?"_

* * *

_**Author's Notes: **__First of all, I'd like to thank everybody who's read this fic for the past eight days according to the Traffic Stats. I appreciate your support a lot and it gave me a lot more motivation to further improve this piece during its deployment. _

_If you'd like to hear a little more rambling, then I'll go for how this fic came to be. I was writing a character sheet for Homura Akemi, and I wanted to find a specific event that would've turned her from grizzled magical girl determined to save her friend, to someone who had somewhat perverted that goal into something else entirely. The story is based on a scene from Haruki Murakami's Wind-Up Bird Chronicle (although that scene is a lot more compelling than the version I made), and I thought that it would have fit Homura's life well. I wasn't aiming for a big event that would've completely changed her, but rather a small one that would've set her down a path that would've changed her gradually as she lost her innocence. Hopefully I was able to achieve that somewhat. _

_I'm very open to discussions in regards to Homura's character and how she could have turned from the simple girl in Episode 10 to the one in Episode 1, so we can all discuss the factors that had facilitated her change as a person and overall development as a character (the implications of her self-change would also be interesting to discuss too). As of this writing I am out, but I'll be back shortly a few days after. If anybody shoots a review or a PM my way, I'll reply as soon as possible after then. _

_And now, harking back to the old CNAW of 2012, again thank you so much for reading, and please review! It's been quite the ride. _


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